Seeing isn't Believing
by CryingMarionette
Summary: Is this insanity? L can't tell if these touches are real or his imagination.


This is something I wrote for a DN kink meme, thought I would share ^_^

Seeing Isn't Believing

L is ninety-eight percent positive he is not insane, those who suffer with insanity never question their own state of mind. No, the tingling across his throat is air from an open window or more likely an air vent, though there is no open window due to the air conditioning and the genius selected this exact spot for its comfort and mild temperature, well away from any fixture to make him either too cold or hot.

The percent lowers down to seventy-two when it is no longer just the warmth caressing the side of his neck, the sensation eerily like that of someone breathing on him, but also a pressure, firm and hot, makes a line down his spine, his shirt not protecting him from the odd sensation at all, as if he weren't even wearing it. He suppresses a shudder, too used to this by now, what he fears is ahead.

Dark as night eyes look back to see if any else sees anything to explain this, heads snap away and eyes dart at his gaze. He knows though, that they are all watching and that they now whisper behind his back, to many times has he jumped and cried out for no reason, in their eyes he's crazy.

If only he looked over his shoulder a little longer he would have noticed the smirk that came across Light's face, he turned his attention back to his cake though, that and the monitors.

The pressure so small before now seems to engulf half his back, half way wrapping around his side, just above his right hip. There's another weight pressing against his stomach, than a moist sensation tracing the rim of his ear, he does shudder now.

It takes all of L's willpower not to drop the fork in his hands or remove his eyes from the screens before him, though he can't see anything happening upon them. His beliefs about his on sanity are slipping, down to fifty-eight percent now. He knows what's going to happen next, though it doesn't make the situation any better.

Unable to escape, the force keeping him in his seat, L is trapped and realizes not for the first time how vulnerable his sitting position leaves him when that warm heaviness slides tauntingly lower. He swears there's a giggle when sensitive flesh is touched, making him shudder.

At first it's all too soft, just caressing his most private area and there's no longer that invisible touch on his back and side, it trailed up the front of his body to stroke his nipple, already hardened in anticipation. There's no use in closing his eyes, no matter how much he wishes to, he cannot see these advances in the first place and shutting down his vision will not make the touches go away.

As if angry that L has yet to cry out or jump there is a sudden, almost painful, grip on his cock, and he can't help to whine at the sensation, his hips arching up just slightly. He's been teased the whole week by this… overactive imagination? Ghost? Shini-?

"Ah!" He cries out again when the pressure around his groin stimulates him, he can feel himself hardening. The fork is finally dropped as he grips the arm rests as if his life depends on it.

The whispers have started, do they truly believe that he can't hear them just feet away, but he can't do anything about it, crying out that he is being molested would not better the situation. To them he is squirming in his own seat for no reason, cheeks slightly flushed, and sweat covering his face from sheer madness alone.

How many days has the insomniac had to deal with this? How many weeks? It feels like this has been happening forever and it just started with the simplest of invisible touches, ones that seemed so mighty at the time and made him jump and squirm, now this is the only way to get a reaction out of him, he wonders when he stops reacting to the ministrations to his dick, what will happen next?

He is thinking more than any other man being handled in front of his coworkers would, it soon stops though when that blissful force starts to rapidly move over his sensitive organ, the feeling more acute, the fear, anticipation, and utter humiliation making his body all the more sensitive.

The genius doesn't remember closing his eyes, but all logic points to just that happening, he doesn't care anymore, thrusting up into the touches as much as he can in the awkward position, but that he is soon denied, the force on his upper body closing around his nipple tightly is what would be a pinch if it were a human and not whatever it is before moving down and gripping his left hip, squeezing almost painfully and keeping him still.

The man can feel it, he's so damn close to the edge that he doesn't care if none of this is sane; he would check himself into a mental health clinic on the spot if he would just be allowed to release. But, as if that invisible force knows, it slows its movements, torturously slow and it makes the genius whine.

"Please," it's quiet, but it works. The force again quickens and the man is brought relief.

Watching L pant, moan, and whine had mixed reactions from the other detectives, Soichiro looking on with disgust, Matsunda turning multiple shades of red, Raito with hidden amusement, and others with utter horror. The genius arching up with one final cry, head thrust back with a shade of pink to his cheeks, only furthers their previous emotions, Soichiro glaring at the other, Matsunda almost getting a nose bleed, Raito nearly blowing his cover with his utter joy in the situation, and the other members almost fleeing the room, because they all know what just happened. The boy had sat there and came in his pants, without touching himself once, and in front of everyone.

L sat in the afterglow of his orgasm, taking in nice, large breaths; he gives himself a moment to relax before he stands.

"I must use the restroom," He walks by his coworkers as if nothing had happened, because even though he is only twelve point six percent positive that he is not insane, he really can't let him affect the case.

Later on Ryuk gets some extra apples, just as promised.


End file.
